One Sunday at St. @3James@1's Prayers, The @3Prince@1 and @3Princess@1 by, I dress'd with all my Whalebone Airs, Sate in the Closet nigh. I bent my Knees, I held my Book, I read the Answers o'er, But was perverted by a Look, That pierc'd me from the Door. High thoughts of Heaven I came to use, And blest Devotion there, Which gay young @3Strephon@1 made me loose, And other Raptures share. He watch'd to lead me to my Chair, And bow'd with courtly grace, But whisper'd Love into my Ear, Too warm for that grave place. Love, Love, cry'd he, by all Ador'd, My fervent Heart has won; But I grown peevish at that Word, Desir'd he would be gone: He went, whilst I, that lookt his way, A kinder Answer meant, And did for all my Sins that day, Not half so much repent. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO SIMPLICITY by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) BETWEEN SLEEP AND WAKING by MATHILDE BLIND THE TENTH MUSE: THE FOUR AGES OF MAN by ANNE BRADSTREET TAKE YOUR CHOICE: OR HERE'S GRANTLAND RICE'S METHOD by BERTON BRALEY AN EPITAPH (AFTER THE GREEK EPIGRAMS) by CHARLES WILLIAM BRODRIBB A GIRL'S COMPLAINT TO HER HEART by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE |